The new world had become a sanctuary for all who sought peace, but Ryan knew that peace was never permanent. The web was vast, the doors were many, and the threats were endless. The Source's light pulsed gently inside him, a reminder of his connection to everything—and a warning that there was still work to be done.
The Council of Light had been formed.
It met in the heart of the new world, in a hall made of silver and shadow and starlight. The fragments, shadows, echoes, and Ancients gathered there, their voices rising in harmony. The twilight woman and the void shadow were there, their forms solid and warm. The Keeper stood at the center, its ancient presence guiding the discussion.
Ryan sat at the head of the council, his daughter beside him. The gold light of the Source still pulsed
